


Fill the Empty Spaces

by Knitwritezombie (Missa_G)



Series: Finding Peace [1]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Emotional Hurt, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Self-Harm, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:29:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23756896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missa_G/pseuds/Knitwritezombie
Summary: So when Ianto disappeared in the middle of the day, Jack got a bit worried. Ianto may have felt himself lost or adrift, but Jack didn't think he'd harm himself. Did he?
Relationships: Ianto Jones & Toshiko Sato, Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Series: Finding Peace [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1711411
Kudos: 66





	Fill the Empty Spaces

Mid-afternoon, a couple weeks after the incident with Lisa – the cyberwoman – Jack mentally corrected himself, it seemed that Ianto had disappeared. No one else had noticed yet, but Jack had tried just about everything short of the hub-wide intercom to track down the young Welshman.

The auto-reply from the internal IM service was still open on Jack's monitor. He'd left two messages on Ianto's mobile, and flipped through the CCTV to see that he wasn't at his desk, or anywhere else in the hub.

The air in the hub was still tension filled, the rest of the team not quite ready to move past Ianto's betrayal. Jack had – there was nothing he could do to punish Ianto more than Ianto was likely doing to himself. He tried to hide it under his perfect suits and tireless service, but Ianto wore a look Jack was all too familiar with from his own bathroom mirror. A look of being lost, of not knowing where else to go or what else to do – the look of someone whose whole world had been taken from him.

Jack didn't feel he could hold Ianto personally responsible. He did understand the motivation behind his actions – Jack could certainly understand sacrifice for love. Had done so at least once in his memory.

Jack watched Ianto move through each day, silently slipping through the hub as usual, trying to fade into the shadows and not draw attention to himself. And he succeeded, too, if hours had gone by and no one (except Jack) had noticed that he was missing. They probably would shortly, Jack thought sourly, when the afternoon coffee wasn't served. He realized he would be in that position as well, if he hadn't needed Ianto for something else first.

Jack realized, in the wake of their near destruction, how much they all took Ianto for granted. Someone to clean up after them, someone who was always in the hub to see to just about any of their needs, who did it calmly and serenely, without a cross word to anyone in the last two weeks. No remarks about using coasters, no teasing chides to Owen to pick up after himself, no dry comments in return to Jack's innuendo or clothes scattered about the hub.

Ianto didn’t try to hide behind Jack’s outgoing personality, Owen’s snark, or Tosh’s naïve intellect. He simply schooled his features into a practiced look of blank indifference, drifting daily through the hub, carrying on with his tasks. The look didn’t fool Jack at all. Once, behind that look, humour had danced in blue eyes if you knew where to look. But Ianto was working later and later into the night, nowhere else to go, and his mask would slip slightly, and Jack could see how much Ianto was hurting, how far he was trying to bury anything resembling feeling and just get on with life.

So when Ianto disappeared in the middle of the day, Jack got a bit worried. Ianto may have felt himself lost or adrift, but Jack didn't think he'd harm himself.

Did he? Could he say that? Ianto had been right – he knew almost nothing about the man outside of work. Ianto had come to Torchwood 3 after Canary Warf, and Jack had been busy trying to track down the Doctor, and Ianto had just insinuated himself into the position like he'd always been there.

He didn't join them after hours for a drink, or go out into the field, despite clearance and prior (albeit limited) experience. Ianto took the job as archivist-slash-receptionist-slash-Jack's personal assistant, and Jack hadn't questioned it at the time. But hindsight was 20/20 (he'd heard that somewhere) and the acceptance of a non-field position made perfect sense in retrospect.

Jack tried Ianto's mobile again, and got only the polite recording to leave a message. It didn't even ring through, which meant he'd switched it off or there was no reception wherever he was.

At the tap on his door, Jack looked up, hoping to see Ianto magically appeared and bearing coffee. Even if it was with a completely blank expression and eyes that weren’t willing to meet his.

"We're going for coffee," Gwen said brightly, handbag slung customarily across her body. "Bring you back anything?"

Jack frowned. "No. Thanks." Had Ianto succeeded in making himself completely invisible to everyone? Had it always been this way, that he wasn’t noticed until he was needed? Or was everyone simply pretending not to notice so they wouldn’t have to admit that on some level, they did care about the tea-boy, that he was just as much a member of the team as they were. That even though they’d all screwed up, they’d been forgiven, too.

Gwen shrugged. "Okay." She tapped his door again on the way out, down the stairs to Tosh's station, before collecting Owen and ducking out through the visitor's center entrance.

The quiet afternoon got quieter as Owen and Gwen left the hub, taking their bickering banter with them. Tosh was still working at her station, and Jack could make out a puzzled expression on her face, even from his office. He watched as she glanced toward her empty coffee mug with a frown. He watched as she repeated some of the same motions he had, flipping through CCTV, typing out a quick IM only to get an automated response.

She was looking for Ianto.

Happiness that someone else had noticed he was gone instantly turned to sadness. It really was quite sad that he felt a sense of elation that someone else noticed a member of the team was curiously absent.

Jack sent Tosh an IM.

j.harkness: Did he leave the hub?  
t.sato: No. He's here somewhere.  
j.harkness: any ideas?  
t.sato: there aren't many places off cctv  
j.harkness: where to start?  
t.sato: ill take pterodactyl, you take basement?  
j.harkness: deal.

[j.harkness logged out]

Jack didn't blame Tosh for avoiding the basement. Truth be told, he didn't much want to go down there either, but he was the boss. He grabbed a torch from a drawer and his headset was tucked into his ear as he made for the lift. He watched Tosh hike up the stairs toward the pterodactyl nest.

He paused outside the bolted doors that had once been Ianto's home away from home (still could’ve been for all Jack knew). The tape across the doors didn't appear to be breached, but if Jack had learned anything recently, it was that Ianto was a dammed resourceful bastard. Jack still had no idea how Ianto had managed to smuggle all that equipment into the basement. He took a breath, tore the tape from the door, and slid back the bolt.

He stepped into a dark, empty chamber and instantly felt consumed by emotion. Jack struggled against the despair he could feel resounding off the concrete walls. He shined his torch into all the corners, making sure Ianto wasn't cowering somewhere projecting emotions into the dark. It was almost as if there was some kind of psychic stain in the space, pain, grief, anger seeming to swirl around Jack and his breath caught in his throat as he was buffeted by the intensity of it.

The room was empty. And Jack didn't hesitate to flee as soon as he was sure it was empty.

"Jack," Tosh's voice was soft in his ear as he paused a moment in bolting the door. "I've got him."

**

As Jack exited the lift, Tosh was getting Ianto settled on the sofa. Under the brighter lights of the main hub, Jack saw how washed out Ianto looked, how his suit seemed to fit less perfectly, though it was still immaculate. Jack had not made any pretense about his attraction to the younger man from the moment he’d met him, and often caught himself out watching him move around the hub.

That made it slightly worrying that Jack had failed to notice that Ianto looked like he hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in what was probably over a week. And Jack already knew Ianto spent more time pushing around the food he ordered than actually eating it.

Jack met Tosh in the kitchen.

“He’s exhausted, Jack,” Tosh spoke softly, heating the kettle for tea. “He’d fallen asleep in the pterodactyl nest.”

That explained why his mobile had been switched off, then.

“And you know what’s sad,” Tosh continued. “If Gwen hadn’t asked if I wanted a coffee, I might not have even noticed that he hadn’t been around.” She looked up at Jack, sadness in her eyes. “He’s turned into such a shadow of himself. I miss Ianto.” She smiled sadly and turned back to the kettle.

Jack wrapped one of his arms around her shoulders and pulled her against him in a hug. “Me too, Tosh.” He knew what she meant. Ianto wasn’t the most outgoing of their group, but he’d always been a calm steady presence in the hub, with a dry sense of humor and quick wit - and all that seemed to have vanished.

He released her to finish the tea and followed her into the hub. Jack hung back a pace as Tosh perched next to Ianto on the sofa, watching as he took the offered mug with slightly shaking hands, but simply held it, eyes on his shoes. Jack didn’t miss the flinch when Tosh laid her hand on Ianto’s forearm, whispering something in Japanese (another language he’d never bothered to learn when everything had been translated for him). Something flashed across Ianto’s face, too swiftly to identify, but he shifted his mug to one hand and laid the empty one over Tosh’s.

“I’m sorry, you know,” Ianto said softly, startling Jack. “I never meant –“ he broke off and finally took a sip of tea, ducking his head again. “She used me, sir. I see that now.” He looked up and Jack could see the depth of sincerity and pain in those blue eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Tosh squeezed Ianto’s forearm again and rose, returning to her desk to give them some space.

“Believe it or not, Ianto,” Jack said softly. “I do understand.” He took the last few steps that brought him to the couch and he sat, stretching his legs out in front of him, keeping space between himself and Ianto. “I’m not quite the monster you think I am.”

“You’re not a monster,” Ianto whispered. “I didn’t mean that. I - ”

Jack cut him off by reaching for the mug that had started to tremble in Ianto’s hands. Jack covered Ianto’s wrists with one and plucked the mug from his grasp with the other. “When’s the last time you slept, Ianto?”

“Honestly, sir?”

“Always,” Jack said, and meant it.

“I haven’t slept more than a couple hours a time for almost year now,” Ianto admitted, too tired to keep up the pretense any longer, and he slumped down in the couch, head falling back to rest on the back. “That’s not the problem.”

Which made sense, Jack reflected. A half-cyberised girlfriend in the basement probably took up most of his time when he wasn’t actually working. “Nightmares?” His hand was still atop Ianto’s – neither man had moved to shift away from the other.

Ianto nodded, eyes fixed on the ceiling. “If Tosh hadn’t come looking, you probably would’ve found me eventually from the screaming. Sir.”

Left unsaid would’ve been his state if he’d suddenly started screaming in the pterodactyl nest. Jack shuddered. Right after ‘don’t mess with the rift’ the lesson taught in the hub was ‘no sudden noises or movements around the pterodactyl.’ He wondered if Ianto’s frankness was a side-effect of being exhausted, or if he just didn’t care anymore. Jack knew what it felt like to think there was nothing left to lose.

And he suddenly wasn’t so sure of his earlier assessment that Ianto wouldn’t try to harm himself.

“Ianto?”

“Captain.”

“Why?” Maybe Jack was taking advantage of Ianto’s ‘talkative’ state, or letting his curiosity getting the better of him. He wasn’t even sure if he expected an answer. Or if Ianto could figure out which question Jack was even asking. He could’ve meant why the pterodactyl nest, or why the nightmares (though that would be fairly obvious), or why Ianto suddenly decided to stop running from him. Perhaps even why Ianto put up with all the shit he did, why he let them all treat him like the shadow he was becoming. But Jack wanted to know why Ianto had thought he’d needed to hide Lisa from him. Why the subterfuge, the deception, the lies.

Because he needed to understand why. So that maybe he could truly move past what he perceived as betrayal. He understood why Ianto had brought Lisa to the hub. But he couldn't understand why he'd never said anything.

Ianto heaved a sigh. "Because denial is a wonderful thing." He loosed one of his hands from Jack's grip. "Can I have my tea back, sir?"

Jack smirked, but handed over the still-warm mug and waited. Jack's hand was still curled around one of Ianto's wrists.

Ianto stared into the mug for a moment before drinking deeply. "I think I knew that Lisa was gone. There were signs, but I ignored them. I wanted so badly – " he took a steadying breath. "She was all I had left. And I just wasn’t ready to let her go. So long as no one else knew about her, I wouldn't have to admit to the reality, that she wasn't my Lisa anymore.

"Hiding her from you let me keep some hope that I could bring her back," Ianto finished sadly. "I meant to tell you, sir, I came close so many times – " he trailed off. "I never meant for any of this."

"If you did, Ianto, we'd be having a very different conversation." Jack grinned and gave Ianto's wrist a squeeze. "Come 'ere," he said, pulling Ianto to him. Jack lifted an arm around Ianto's shoulders, tucking the slender man against his body. He could understand Ianto's motivation for hiding Lisa from them. It didn't erase the betrayal, but it did help Jack understand the archivist better.

"Don't let this consume you, Ianto," Jack whispered into the dark head against his shoulder. "I know how easy it is to let yourself believe there's nothing left to live for, or to lose. I know how it feels to surrender to that."

Jack took a breath. "You're stronger than that. And we need you here. I need you here. Really here, Ianto, not just slinking through the shadows, trying to be ignored. I know what Owen says, but you're not just the tea-boy. You keep us going, and we all take you for granted. Right now you're making it easy by pretending you don't exist.

"It's easy for us to pretend you're not here, because no-one quite knows what to do right now," Jack said levelly, trying to keep his voice low and calm. "You don't speak to anyone unless they speak to you first, and even then, only if you can't get away with a non-verbal answer." Jack squeezed Ianto's wrist. He wasn't trying to be critical – he was just trying to show Ianto that they were trying – that he was trying – to make Ianto feel like part of the team, to heal the rift that had appeared between Ianto and the rest of the team. But they were all struggling to figure out what to do when he didn't seem to want to be there.

"I understand guilt, Ianto. I understand needing something so badly you'd sacrifice just about anything to keep it. I understand what it's like to be totally alone. And you don't have to be alone. It doesn't seem like it at the moment but this –" Jack waved an arm around, indicating the hub, "this is the closest thing most of us have to family. We have to work together, live together, trust each other."

"Not sure I deserve that trust," Ianto muttered.

"Maybe not right now," Jack agreed sadly. "But you can re-earn it."

Ianto nodded and they sat together for a moment, Ianto finishing off the cooling tea.

"I feel hollow,” Ianto said into the silence. “Like there's nothing left inside me but a great gaping hole. And it aches."

"It'll get better," Jack said quietly. "It takes time, but you can heal, Ianto. I’m not saying it's gonna be easy, or that it's gonna be tomorrow – but you can survive this."

"How?"

Jack knew Ianto would have to give up the guilt he carried, would have to let himself believe that he had been used and that his only fault was perhaps loving a woman too much. But Ianto wasn't ready to hear that. Maybe once the others seemed to moved on, Ianto could too. Forgiveness went a long way toward alleviating guilt, Jack knew.

"Find some way to fill the empty spaces," Jack said simply.

"With you?" Only weariness was reflected in Ianto's tone.

"If you like," Jack said carefully. Ianto had inferred exactly as Jack had implied. "Hate me, if it helps. If hatred will help you survive, then hate me, Ianto. You threatened to watch me die. If the idea of that day will allow you to live a little more, then cling to it." Ianto shuddered in his arms.

"And if I don't want to hate you?" Ianto whispered.

"What do you want?" Jack breathed. On some level, he was relieved. Jack was beginning to understand that Ianto was a passionate man about those he had feelings for, and hatred was just a valid feeling as love. Jack wasn't sure he wanted to be on the receiving end of Ianto's hatred.

"I don't know," Ianto admitted. "But I don't hate you."

"Okay." Jack answered, squeezing Ianto's shoulders. It was a start. "Okay."


End file.
